


Extraordinary Perceptions

by devertigozation



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Knotting, M/M, Mating Bond, POV Stiles Stilinski, Rimming, Stiles Stilinski Is Twenty Years Old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:40:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28431819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devertigozation/pseuds/devertigozation
Summary: Maybe Derek will be needing someone to suck his cock in order to stop some spell, this is Beacon Hills after all, Stiles would just like everyone to know that he’d be more than down for it.Stiles and Derek get accidentally mated.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 15
Kudos: 357





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> So this takes place in this sexy timeline, called "everything I want happened when I want it to happen" timeline. So it is few years into the future, Stiles is twenty, has already dated Lydia (and broken up with her), Derek is still an alpha, Erica and Boyd are alive.
> 
> This fic has probably been born out of me taking a look at abo fics, and cherry picking the juiciest things I like about that trope, and throwing everything I don't want to write about out (so knotting is hot, bond is hot, slick is hot, enhanced sense of smell - hot. and while i respect and in awe of those writers who explore gender through abo (or dont and just write hot stuff), i'm sorry but i literally can't deal with the gender differences). So I don't know. Tagging this as abo seemed false advertising, but if you hate the trope with all in you, this one might not be up your valley.
> 
> The title from Virginia Woolf _"Every moment is the centre and meeting-place of an extraordinary number of perceptions which have not yet been expressed."_

Stiles never really tries to be subtle (see his crush on Lydia), so when he develops some intense feelings for Derek, he doesn’t even try to hide them. It must be blazingly obvious for Derek with all his senses - how all Stiles' hormones go haywire in his presence, oozing desire with everything in him, but he literally can’t find it in himself to be ashamed to hide it. 

Like when your chances are already a zero, not that you can hurt them. Besides, Stiles always figured that desperate and pathetic might be just the perfect angle for him, what the hell did he ever need to play hard to get? Stiles would very much be happy with a pity hustling, and on some improbable chance that something will happen - maybe Derek will be needing someone to suck his cock in order to stop some spell, this is Beacon Hills after all, Stiles would just like everyone to know that he’d be more than down for it. 

It’s not even that Stiles has self-esteem problems, because while, yeah, he has his eyes wide open - and, well, Derek looks the way he looks, and does the things that he does, he is werewolf, alpha, and, most likely, straight. Still, if there is anything dating Lydia taught Stiles is that he isn’t too hopeless, even if they did break up eventually. It’s just that this entire life story of Derek makes Stiles want to do something far more embarrassing than just suck him off in front of entire pack. Derek’s unfair, really shitty history honestly makes Stiles want to take Derek into his arms and kiss him where it hurts most. And so, yes, Stiles also wants Derek to know that Stiles is out there and he loves him totally and completely because this is what Derek deserves - for everyone to love him. The entire world owes Derek a big one, and Stiles with his morality compass is fully prepared to single-handedly restore the justice. If Derek only lets him. Which Derek totally doesn’t owe to Stiles to give a chance at. It’d just be nice if he did.

So this is the reason why Stiles feels literally no shame whatsoever coming to the pack meeting after a really good masturbating session during which he stuffed himself with his fingers and imagined it's Derek. He is even walking strangely, that’s how good the session was. Stiles sees in Derek’s face that he notices it - his nostrils flare. Even Scott is wrinkling his nose at him, and, okay, maybe Stiles needed to take a shower instead of just wiping himself with wet tissues, but then he’d be late, and Stiles makes it a mission in life to make Derek know that he would spend every single second that he can get with him. And Stiles also absolutely wishes to be with Derek every single second that he can get, so coming late wasn’t an option.

So Stiles is stuck with Derek not even talking directly to him during the meeting, which in turn only makes Stiles want to press harder to get his attention. But Stiles restrains, who the hell knows what he smells like to a werewolf? Maybe this time he at last had overdone it. Usually Derek is good with him, patient even with Stiles’ hopeless crush, which obviously does nothing to help Stiles get over Derek, but then not like Stiles’s seen a way out anyway or wanted one. Stiles always figured that if he pushed too hard, Derek would have no problems letting him know - would just growl, and say something like, _lay off, Stiles_. He hasn’t done anything of a kind yet, but Stiles is a bit afraid that today he made Derek way too uncomfortable.

This is why Stiles isn’t surprised when back in his room, the window opens and a big bad wolf comes inside. 

At this point, Stiles' had enough time to make excuses, but in the end he decided to just accept everything Derek would tell him. So he turns on his chair and looks at Derek. Derek who is looking at the bed.

Oh, right, Stiles should’ve cleaned his sheets. Fuck, what his room must smell to Derek. No surprise that Derek can’t take a breath - assaulted by entire _eau de Stiles_ from all sides. 

“Shit, will it help if I change them now?” - Stiles tries not to cringe. He is a grown adult, he’d been prepared to talk to Derek about his crush on him, he will not act like embarrassed teenager. 

“Stiles,” - Derek’s voice comes out choked because he still is refusing to breathe properly. But that combined with Derek’s crazed eyes, makes Stiles blush deeper, remembering so many different scenarios he played constantly in which his name would escape Derek in that way. He had no idea Derek could sound like that, least of all, not with Stiles near. 

“Okay, I’m just gonna-“ Stiles starts to rise, he needs to change the sheets, Derek will suffocate this way. 

“You are really desperate, aren’t you?” - Stiles stops when Derek asks. Which, wow, how did he manage to get enough air to voice all that?

And then Stiles understands the question, and a weird broken laugh leaves him. 

“Yeah, you could say so,” - he smiles self-deprecatingly. Damn, he isn’t going to feel ashamed just because he dared to have a crush on Derek. There is nothing wrong with that. He also wants to argue, Derek’s question makes it sound as though Stiles just wants to be impaled on his dick, and well, Stiles really wants that. But Stiles also wants to like… cuddle Derek and tell him how great he is and good, and watch over him so that nothing bad would ever happen to him anymore. 

“Me, too,” - Derek breathes out like a secret.

Which what? It makes Stiles literally feel like an ice-cold bucket has splashed on him, until he realizes that he hasn’t actually said anything about cuddles and watching over out loud. It takes a fairly long moment for Stiles to recreate the conversation to understand what Derek means, and even then he has to ask:

“You’re desperate?” - voice small and unsure, because why the hell would Derek tell something of a kind to Stiles? 

“I’m an alpha,” - Derek looks at Stiles for the first time today, and Stiles might lose himself a bit inside Derek’s beautiful hazel eyes, and those eyelashes, which in turn makes Stiles register what Derek has said only slowly.

“You’re an alpha?” - Stiles phrases that as a question even though he still doesn’t get the meaning of what Derek is saying. But Stiles wishes for it to never end, this already feels like so much more than anything Stiles thought he’d get from Derek. If Derek wants to talk to Stiles about sex, because they are buddies, so be it. Stiles might then live his entire life with a really bad case of blue balls, but he is so prepared to make sacrifices for Derek.

Derek doesn’t answer that, which is, yeah, kind of a stupid question for Stiles to ask. They all know that Derek is their alpha.

“Hold on, hold on,” - Stiles at last somewhat manages to get his brain working. This is by the way the reason why he jerks off before pack meetings - otherwise he gets just too caught up in Derek to function. - “You’re telling me that you need sex because you’re alpha?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I am saying,” - Derek, the ass, even rolls his eyes.

“Dude, what? How does it even, I mean just why?” - there are so many questions inside Stiles. God, he wishes he could just study Derek. Like, more than usual.

Derek breathes out, and Stiles understands that it means to convey that Derek isn’t going to give him a lecture on werewolf anatomy, which Stiles might learn to live without, but Derek can’t really hope to say something like that and not explain.

“Originally, alphas formed packs by forming a family,” - he concedes and grits out like it actually pains him. Which it might. Stiles has a theory that Derek has a very bad case of Speaking-Causes-Pain syndrome. SCP syndrome. 

“We totally are a family,” - Stiles says. And then Derek looks at him, very unimpressed. 

“Oh, oh, you mean that …” - Stiles stutters because well, damn, - “they formed babies, huh?”

Derek sighs. 

“Yes.”

“So, like?..” - Stiles can’t believe it. Beacon Hills rocks - Stiles was so totally right about something going awry and would end with Derek needing someone to help him take care of a huge hard on. - “You need to like?… Form babies?”

“No, Stiles,” - and Stiles deflates. Figures. Besides, if Stiles was to think on it, if Derek needed to form babies, he wouldn’t need Stiles. 

“I have an instinct inside me that tells me to have sex now that I am an alpha to guarantee the future of the pack.”

Very impressive speech for someone with SCP syndrome. 

“Oh, oh.” Does it mean what Stiles thinks it means? Derek is basically horny all the time?

“Are you like horny all the time?”

Derek eyes the window longingly. Stiles thinks how to jump on him before Derek would have the chance to jump out of it. 

“Yes, Stiles,” - he answers, seething. 

Well, hallelujah! Stiles was so right - his desperate and pathetic approach totally got him something. Thank God, he placed himself as someone easy for Derek, Stiles can’t believe it all actually played out in his favour. Stiles was so right about not listening to all those advices given in the magazines - like, right, you need to play hard to get. Easy and near-begging gets you the D.

“So, like, you want to? I mean with me? Like I got the part where you want all the time now that you’re an alpha…”

Derek stops him, saying, “Yes.”

“Yes as in - I got it right, you want to have sex all the time, or like yes to it being with me?” - Stiles is suddenly unsure, this is way out of his depth, came out of literally nowhere, he needs Derek to confirm it for him. Why would he want to? Stiles figured that he stopped annoying Derek as much as he did before, but still - Derek seems to be annoyed by him even now. Is Derek even bi? He dated girls before, of that Stiles knows.

“Do you want to or not?” - Derek erupts. 

Which, as far as seduction techniques go, isn’t actually too bad. Stiles learned a long time ago that Derek’s anger does something for him. 

“Um, I mean, can’t you smell it?” - Stiles had been sprouting a halfie all the time that this weird discussion was taking place. Like, Stiles is just happy he hadn’t gotten too light-headed in the course of it, because, fuck, he had actually been talking to Derek about his horny levels all while the sheets in which he masturbated thinking about Derek were just there. There are many fantasies that started this way for Stiles - with Derek coming to his room and talking about his alpha dick. 

And when Derek visibly inhales (which how did he speak without breathing for so long? What’s going on inside werewolf’s lungs?), and Stiles is no longer _half_ -hard. When Derek lowers his gaze to stare at his crotch, Stiles stifles a whine. This is almost professional, and Stiles doesn’t need to make it any weirder for Derek - poor guy just ended up with a bad case of magical cock and balls, he just needs a good fuck, and Stiles had worked so hard to be the most obvious choice for Derek’s magical sexual problems, he needn’t be surprised that it actually worked. 

Derek just drags his eyes upward, and makes no move. 

“Okay, what I mean is like, yes, please, Derek, please have sex with me,” - Stiles doesn’t have the breath to continue because with a growl Derek attacks him. Which causes Stiles to fall down the chair, bump his head and back on the table, while falling, but he only registers it as something far away - Derek is inside his arms, and so Stiles holds on for his dear life. Derek is kissing him and holding him, and growls, and Stiles just squirms in pleasure and tries to settle Derek more on him - he envelops Derek in his legs and holds with all his might to Derek’s material on the back with his hands. Stiles is afraid that Derek is going to run away from him, and even if he knows that he wouldn’t be able to hold Derek with his puny human strength, doesn’t mean that Stiles isn’t prepared to try. He kisses Derek back, opening his mouth under Derek’s tongue, they kiss toe-curlingly, deeply, filthily, and Stiles moans into it.

“Stiles! What the hell is going on up there?” - his father’s holler cuts like a leash, and Stiles is so far gone he almost doesn’t feel the lust passing, only notes that Derek’s face moves away from his and tries to lower him back down, ready to beg Derek for more.

“Stop it,” - Derek whispers with force. And Stiles does. Usually, he feels a rise of contradiction at any kind of order for him, even, or maybe especially, if it comes from Derek. But regarding Stiles’ feelings for Derek, Stiles told himself a long time ago that he would listen to everything Derek tells him to do, not wanting to bring Derek displeasure with his crush. So he shuts, and not understanding why they had to stop, whines, “What? Why?… Derek?” not entirely sure what is going on. He would just really like to go back to kissing.

“Your father,” - Derek whispers back, and now Stiles’ brain decides to come online and Stiles hears the footsteps. It will take his father some time, but he’ll get here.

“Shit, Derek,” - Stiles looks around his room. Maybe Derek can hide beneath the table.

“There’s no way I can have sex with you if your father is in the house,” - Derek says, seemingly able to read Stiles’ mind.

“Okay, okay,” - Stiles isn’t going to beg for sex, he isn’t. - “But what should we do then?” But there’s no way he isn’t going to ask Derek very nicely to still have sex with him today.

“Come to mine later,” - Derek whispers, then bumps his nose and moves to run away. But he is too entangled in Stiles, and Stiles knows that he needs to let Derek go, but he can’t. He is so afraid that once he lets go, Derek will come to his senses and remember that he isn’t in any way attracted to Stiles. So Stiles whimpers and holds on to Derek, kissing him, trying to make it good for Derek, pushing it for good measure his hips against Derek crotch, feeling his hardness.

“Jesus Christ, Stiles,” - Derek says, looking at him, eyes dark, and then proceeds to kiss Stiles in such way that Stiles thinks he wouldn’t mind actually get caught in the action by his dad.

But when his father knocks, Stiles gets distracted and lets go of Derek and he disappears in just the time that it takes for Stiles to blink. 

“Stiles, you alright there?” - his father asks.

“Yeah, sorry, Dad. Guess I fell down the chair and knocked myself out of it for a couple of seconds,” - Stiles moves to stand and fixes his hard on so that it wouldn’t stand too obviously, and opens the door. - “You shouldn’t have taken the stairs.”

“You sure you’re alright? You look a bit concussed,” - of course his father is going to ignore the stairs note. 

“Yeah, guess I kind of overstudied. M’gonna hit the showers and then probably go to sleep.”

“Okay,” - his father still watches him disbelievingly. 

Stiles decides that actually, at age twenty it’s kind of uncool to lie to parents, so he bites the bullet.

“Or I might take Jeep somewhere, if that’s alright with you. Hold on, I’ll help you down the stairs.”

“Somewhere?” - his father doesn’t acknowledge the stairs thing, but at least he lets Stiles help him. Stiles thought for some time already that they need to permanently close the second floor, he can sell his father an idea that they would save this way on heating, but then it was so comfortable actually - to split the house between them two, letting Stiles have his own place, of sorts.

“Yup, got a match on tinder,” - okay, so Stiles still can’t be all honest with his Dad. But, like, not exactly a lie. A lie that holds truth in it. 

“Is that why you fell from your chair?” - his father chuckles.

And Stiles resolutely doesn’t answer that. 

It is a weird transition, Stiles thinks, but they are making it - of moving from relationship of an adult with his child to an adult with adult. Doesn’t mean it has to go all smooth, Stiles supposes. What person would feel comfortable discussing his sex life with a parent, no matter how mature?

“You gonna stay the night?”

“Probably, but you should beep me anytime,” - Stiles knows better than to ask his Dad if he is feeling alright this night. He already is feeling far too guilty with Stiles hovering over him.

“Nothing’s going to happen, Stiles,” - he rolls his eyes.

“Might save me from a disastrous night if you do,” - Stiles jokes, but he needs his Dad to not hesitate notify him the moment he’ll feel something.

“Have a good night, Stiles,” - his Dad waves him off, moving to his room. 

_Nothing’s going to happen_ , Stiles reminds himself, watching his Dad disappear behind his door.

He makes a quick run for the shower, and prepares himself properly. Fuck, his gay cherry is going to be popped today. And with Derek! 

♡♡♡

Somehow when Stiles makes it to Derek’s, he manages not to lose his entire mind, and also not crash his car with everything in his brain that just goes spazming, electricity running on water, or it feels so. 

The forest around Derek’s house kind of reassures Stiles. It used to creep him out, especially at night, but strangely after learning about all those creepy monsters inside it, Stiles feels less scared of it. Now, even in the darkness, he just thinks that it is good that it is so isolated. Stiles has a feeling he is a screamer.

Even though Derek must hear him, he doesn’t come to meet Stiles by the door, which does make Stiles a bit nervous. Please, don’t let Derek change his mind. 

Derek’s house is basically just a carcass of a real thing - he rebuilt the thing himself, and did it half-assedly. Stiles fucking loves that thing.

He enters the house, the lights are on, and while he looks for Derek, he tells him, figuring they both need to get loose, shake off nervousness, but also because Stiles doesn’t have the control over his speech at the moment: “So, okay, you've seen ‘El Camino’, right? And I mean there is this great scene in which Jessie basically systematically destroys this evil’s dude house, right? I think it is really cool how in the movies very often the houses can be symbols of conformity, normality, acceptability, and also kind of like prisons, right? I mean just think about it - in ‘Mr & Mrs Smith’ until they destroy their gorgeous house, they can’t really love each other, or have normal sex. In ‘Fight Club’ it is done even more in the face - Edward Norton turns into Brad Pitt only when he destroys his house, and they turn to live in that weird basement whatever. So like, I think this idea comes from, well, like, the feeling that many adults feel - that they need to destroy their house, because they just mindlessly hate it. It is a thing just so tied to the proper way of living, and that proper way of living is just another way in which our absolute freedom is threatened with, that, honestly-“ 

And at this Stiles finds Derek looking at him from the canvas of the doorframe, while Stiles is leaned over the fire place, wondering if it works. So sue him, Stiles has some sex ideas taken straight from historical romances, but like, having sex by the fire place, is hot. And Stiles isn’t taking any arguments regarding this.

“Dude!” - and when Stiles thinks to ask Derek either - does it work, can we lit it? or - how are you so quiet? he remembers what he came for here today and stutters. Derek looks at him like…

“Are you turned on?” - Stiles doesn’t know why it comes out as though Stiles accuses Derek of something. This is what he came for. Besides, Derek told him that he is perpetually turned on. But still, Stiles can’t help being a little shit: “Does it do that for you? Analyses of movies? Of the inner symbolism of destroyed houses since you live in one?”

Derek shakes his head like he is underwater. He looks a bit strange - all dazed. Fuck, Stiles should’ve known a long time ago that Derek has it tough being an alpha. 

“Do you,” - and Stiles waits so patiently for Derek to finish it. He really doesn’t want to spook Derek at all, - “like my house?” 

The last part comes somehow weird and breathy. Stiles thinks, very endeared and softened, that Derek can’t do dirty talking for shit. But then he started it with his ‘Breaking Bad’ word-vomit, so who’s Stiles to judge. Derek probably doesn’t know how to do it because he never had to, his entire body probably sets the mood just alright. 

Stiles watches how slowly Derek comes closer to him, and it is about to happen, so Stiles asks, 

“Was the carpet dry-cleaned?”

“What?” - Derek even stops in his track. But he is fairly close for Stiles to launch himself on him, if he wishes to. Stiles eyes the distance wistfully.

“Like, dude,” - Stiles shows the place with both his hands, even though he knows that Derek’s seen the place, because he lives in it, - “if we’re gonna have sex, we should totally do it on the rug before the fire. And before you’ll go there, yes, I would absolutely love for you to put your special Celine Dion playlist.”

Derek looks at him like he has no idea what to say to all that. 

“Are you a virgin?” - is what Derek settles in. It sounds like Derek was going for sassy, but it ended up being ruined by his breathiness. Stiles kneels down and gets busy with the logs and the fire. He finds matches, so he tries them out. He resolutely doesn’t acknowledge the colour he feels spreading.

“I mean, like, no?” - and then Stiles decides that maybe he should actually come clean, or something. - “But, I mean, yes, for gay sex? Like, not that I don’t understand that girls can top, or whatever, but, well, basically, the anal cherry hasn’t been popped, you know?” - Stiles holds himself back from explaining to Derek everything he’s done and hasn’t done with Lydia. Surprisingly, not much. He realized that he was probably in the bigger number on the Kinsey scale than he thought himself to be.

Derek kneels down by him and Stiles manages not to jerk, which - kudos to Stiles for stealth and being sexy. Derek moves the logs and busies with building the fire. Apparently, you need a skill for it, who would’ve known? 

“We don’t have to,” - Derek says quietly. When Stiles stares at him dumbfounded and feeling a bit of fear spreading, he continues, “We don’t have to… Do it all the way.”

“I mean, if you don’t want to, that’s fine, you know,” - Stiles swallows the potent disappointment. - “I mean, personally, I came here prepared, and it is kind of tough being a bottom, so not that I would want to waste that, you know. But it’s whatever, Derek, it’s all for you, so… you decide.”

Derek exhales and drops the matches from which the fire was catching. Stiles watches it die.

Derek brings his hands to his face and says the next words into them, “I can smell that,” half-groaning, half-growling.

Stiles doesn’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. It looks like he managed yet again to piss Derek off, but Stiles doesn’t think that this time he pushed any annoy-Derek buttons. 

“Rug's clean, I can’t stand the smell of it when it’s not,” - Derek continues from beneath his hands. 

“Oh, sweet!” - Stiles says and drops his ass on it. 

Derek is so tense, Stiles sees the muscles on his arm twitch. Stiles decides not to say anything about that - Derek’s now busy again with the fire, and Stiles wouldn’t put it past him to try and throw Stiles in it, if Stiles pushes.

Instead he settles on the rug, laying on his back. It is this amazing thing that is just perfect for sex - huge and soft, Stiles kind of sinks in it. Now that he is lowered on it, he can smell it - something like apples and definitely cleanness, so while not exactly a sexy smell like peaches or jasmine, not too bad. 

Derek works slowly over the fire, and Stiles’ mind races a hundred thoughts in that time. 

“So, do you want me to? Put some music?” - Derek’s back says.

Stiles rolls his eyes, and it’s a good thing Derek doesn’t see it. “I’m good,” - Stiles says, swallowing all the snark he has inside. With Derek still not turning to look at him, Stiles starts realizing what exactly they are about to do. The wave of insecurity raises inside and near drowns him in it, and he wants to ask Derek - Do you regret it already? 

Why can’t he just look at Stiles?

Stiles extends his arm and touches Derek’s back, and Derek jerks which forces Stiles to hastily pull his hand away as though burned. And inside Stiles, he feels how pain spreads from the heart, numbing his limbs.

If only he could, he would’ve said, _It’s alright, Derek, if you changed your mind_ , possibly saving some of his dignity by it. But Stiles feels like if he is to speak, he’ll say something mortifying, like, _please, Derek, please just one time_ , and so he leaves it for Derek to push him away.

And Stiles feels bad about it, because he knows how much Derek thinks he must endure for the sake of others, so if he feels even half the desperation Stiles projects, he might just think that it is his duty as an alpha, or his responsibility for promising Stiles some action, he might now go along with Stiles’ stupid dreams of first sex before the fire.

So when Derek speaks, Stiles listens for every word of it, promising himself to read Derek’s mood, and to put a stop on it, if Derek sounds uninterested.

“Did you come?” 

Not at all what Stiles expected to hear. Not. at. all. Stiles expected that Derek would try to stall time, and distract him with something else, and he promised himself to go along with whatever Derek would say.

So now with this promise inside, Stiles does go along with whatever Derek asks of him.

“I mean, yes?” - he came a lot of times today, which is sort of why they ended up here, right?

“When you were prepping in the shower,” - Derek says, like it’s all just part of some normal conversation, and not like Stiles’ dick isn’t stirring because it’s main muse is just there and talks about mini-Stiles, while the fire licks his outline.

“Oh, um, yes?” - Stiles shudders remembering. He was definitely made for receiving, that much he’s known about himself for a while.

“So can you?” - at last Derek turns, and Stiles is mesmerized. Oh, Derek definitely wants the sex. His eyes are all pupil, his breath comes out from deep within him, like he smells and smells the room, his mouth is open, like his tongue is too big for his mouth. Stiles understands - his own mouth produces excess of saliva, turning all wet.

“Can I what?” - Stiles asks quietly, thinking, _I can do anything for you_. I _will_ do anything for you.

“Can you come untouched?” - and Derek is moving forward to him, on his fours. _Like a wolf_.

“I…” - Stiles swallows and watches entranced as Derek’s eyes zero on the movement. - “I never tried it before,” he confesses, space between them allows Stiles to whisper it like a secret. 

Derek watches over him, and he doesn’t need to ask to know that Stiles is so down to try it now. 

“I think I can,” - Stiles speaks because he doesn’t understand why Derek isn’t lowering himself, why he isn’t kissing Stiles. He moves his hands to rest on Derek’s shoulders, and doesn’t push Derek downwards because Derek kind of nuzzles into his arm, so Stiles, understandably, gets distracted. 

Because while Stiles wants wants wants so much from Derek, he wants Derek to drop all his weight on Stiles, and kiss him senseless, and also already fuck him, Stiles remembers that above all else he wants to just be perfect for Derek. He wants Derek to use him, exactly how Derek needs to. And it’s not even un-selfish from Stiles’ side, because Stiles thinks that from this he will get so much more enjoyment than from all his personal dreams. 

Derek keeps nuzzling him, moving his head lower by inches. It looks like he is scenting Stiles.

Stiles groans, “Does it do that for you? Smell?” - he asks, immediately mortified, that he is already feeling so much when Derek hasn’t done anything real.

Derek’s eyes flash when he answers, “Yes.”

Stiles’ hips shift, and his dick twitches, but, thankfully, Derek is far enough for Stiles not to touch him. 

Stiles scans his mind and wonders if there are some rituals of wolf mating that might do it for Derek, but, he’s never thought to research that. Stiles frantically tries to think what exactly might be a turn on for a supernatural creature with enhanced senses, and thinks so loudly it should just project out loud, _What can I do to make it good for you?_ desperate for clues, twisting in anxiety, in desire to make it so good for Derek.

“Fuck, Stiles,” - Derek drops his head low, and his hair don’t quite drop on Stiles’ face. 

“What, what?” - Stiles feels petrified that he’s done something, and Derek will now say, I can’t do it with you. He can’t stop squirming.

Derek looks at him like his mere sight offends him, and then drops all his weight down on Stiles. And oh.

“I think you have a steel wallet in your pocket, Derek,” - Stiles says, too shocked to have a real bite in it. He can barely move from beneath Derek, which is good, it is so good for Stiles. He tries to wiggle, but mostly to really feel it, Stiles can’t believe it even now that he is crushed by it - Derek is hard.

“I can feel it…” - Derek says, nosing along Stiles’ hairline, sounding drugged. He doesn’t even care to elaborate what he means, but Stiles just needs, needs to know, though before Stiles finds the strength to beg Derek to explain what is going there with him, Derek says, - “It just feels like…” and here Derek takes a shuddering breath, “I can feel how much you want to be good.”

Holy shit, Derek can feel that? But then Stiles figures he never tried to make a secret of it. Derek’s silence somehow feels loaded, like he waits for Stiles to say something to that, asking for a response with every bob of his head while he puts his mouth somewhere on Stiles’ hair.

“So, are you going to tell me then?” - and when Derek obviously doesn’t get it, Stiles elaborates, “Are you going to tell me how to be good?”

Which makes Derek moan. And that just about breaks Stiles. He knows that he promised himself to let Derek do whatever he wants with him, but it all goes out of his head, and he only knows the desperate desire to touch Derek, to have him near, to just about sink Derek in entirety inside him. Stiles frees his legs from under Derek, and hugs the man with all his four limbs, clinging to him so tightly, should Derek rise, Stiles would rise with him, pushed against Derek with his mere desire so much it will win against gravity.

He doesn’t try to kiss Derek, figuring his mouth is way too far, somewhere along Stiles’ forehead for Stiles to reach, but also wanting so badly for Derek to want to kiss him, he’ll do it first. But still, Stiles’ mouth is all prepared and he needs to put it to use, so he just pushes the fabric around Derek’s collarbone to the side and goes town - sucking and licking, and moaning, because the taste is so good, all Derek and sweat, salty, melting on the tongue. 

Derek is all loosed limbs, but he pushes into Stiles’ mouth, which makes Stiles feel so grateful. 

“Are you smelling me?” - Derek asks weakly, still nosing somewhere along Stiles’ temple.

“Yeah, it’s doing it for you, right?” - Stiles doesn’t even need the answer, already figuring that basically anything that involves the smell is probably a good way to make it good for Derek. An idea comes, and Stiles doesn’t hesitate. He’s kind of down for anything with Derek, he’s had enough time to think the idea of sex with Derek over and over, and so Stiles doesn’t think there is anything he wouldn’t do for him. Just the fact that it is with Derek will probably do it for him.

So Stiles moves his hands straight into Derek’s armpits, feeling the damp fabric there. He was always very much pro-sweat, using deodorant, but only for the sake of others, for himself never really knowing how the simple bodily function of sweating could be gross. But here, with Derek, it is more than that. So much more.

Stiles pushes his hand hard against Derek crook under shoulder, not wanting to tickle and ruin the mood, really feeling it, the fabric is damp, but not too much. Fire nearby does warm them quite intensely.

Derek pulls his upper body up, but leaves his hips where Stiles’ legs are holding him down. He watches Stiles with a kind of rapture, he’s not even doing anything, just lets Stiles do what he needs, moving just how Stiles wants him to.

Stiles pushes the edge of Derek’s t-shirt, exposing skin and hair of Derek’s armpit. He immediately inserts his hand just there, feeling the wetness, getting Derek’s sweat all over his fingers. Even Stiles can smell Derek now, he wonders how much of the action can Derek feel. Are werewolf used to their own smell or can they recognize and feel it?

Stiles brings his hand to taste it - basically exactly what Derek tasted under his lips by his neck, only so much more intense, taste denser. Derek groans watching him and closes his eyes like the sight pains him. Stiles knows though that Derek can’t turn away his sense of smell, or touch, or hearing. Stiles moans around his fingers just for the sake of enjoyment of Derek gritting his teeth. Somehow Stiles just knows, as though Derek’s feelings hit him like waves in their close proximity, that Derek truly enjoys that. Only Derek can endure pleasure like it is pain, thinks Stiles fondly.

And then Stiles brings his head right under Derek’s shoulder, nosing right there, licking Derek’s sweat over his hair and skin.

“Aahh, Stiles,” - Derek jerks like Stiles is cutting him or something. But Stiles still feels Derek, and when Derek forcefully moves his head from under his armpit to nose along his lips, licking his own sweat off Stiles’ skin, Stiles can _feel_ , or maybe he just guesses, that the combined smell of them together makes Derek lose it. 

So Stiles just moves his hands down Derek’s body, pulling on fabric. All the while, he also pushes into Derek’s hands that hold his hand inside them, wanting to show Derek how much he needs him to hold him. 

He manages to raise Derek’s t-shirt upwards, even though he does get distracted with feeling Derek’s abs. When he raises the fabric enough to dip under it, Stiles just does that, without tugging it all the way away. Stiles feels as though his own sense of smell enhances, he’s never felt anything of a kind, but when he butts with his head under Derek’s pit, he has to moan because he can sense how amazing they smell together, smelling how it mixes together. This is abnormal, even if Stiles is swimming inside air that entangles them two, he still shouldn’t smell that intensely. Humans can’t feel something like that. 

“Derek, Derek,” - he says, and if he just could rip himself apart from Derek, he would be asking Derek - something is happening, Derek, is it normal? but as it is Stiles literally can’t, just keeps licking with his mouth open, panting, putting his entire head, trying to get Derek’s scent all over himself, over his hair and skin, thankfully, Derek’s not ticklish. He can’t force himself to say - Derek, it feels way too good to be normal, and not sound pathetic.

“Fuck, Stiles!” - Derek’s muscles quiver under Stiles’ arms. He hisses the words like lashes - “Stop it!” He says forcefully, angrily, but Stiles can _feel_ Derek. It feels like Derek wants to hit the brakes because it got too intense, pleasure all over him, and Derek can’t handle it.

And Stiles… Stiles is so gone for Derek, he just feels a piercing pain inside himself because of his overwhelming feelings for Derek. While, on the one hand he wants to continue and force Derek to just take it - take all the pleasure, force Derek to take all Stiles’ actions, make Derek lose it, tell him with his actions - yes, Derek, people can love you this way, deal with it, because you deserve all that and more, because you deserve all the best things, no matter how unused to them you are, Stiles also wants to care about Derek, wants to be soft for Derek, and be anything Derek needs him to be, wants to trust Derek. And if Derek decides they need to change the pace, that’s what they’ll do, even if takes Stiles’ a bit of time to pull away from under Derek’s t-shirt. 

And even then Stiles can’t without contact with Derek, mouth hungry for Derek, so he seeks Derek’s face, and mouths along the skin there. Fuck, how he smells right under Derek’s nose - a bit wet with Derek’s perspiration, warm from the fire. He just notices how dark the room is - only lit from the left where the fire dances. 

“Electricity went out,” - Derek explains, voice broken, reading Stiles’ mind. 

“That’s hot,” - Stiles answers, wanting so badly to kiss, but instead opting for leaving his mouth all open and breathe and touch Derek’s skin all over.

Even though they are still in California, the nights do get cold, especially in the holed box Derek lives in, but Stiles revels in the sensations around him - coldness beaten by the fire close by, and Derek, Derek, Derek by him - Derek’s smell, the burning wood, Derek in his arms, the rug beneath him. 

“What do you want?” - Stiles asks, but it barely matters because, honestly, Stiles will say yes to anything.

Derek sighs and moves away from his almost-kisses and looks at Stiles downward, half face illuminated by red and orange flickers. He is so beautiful, it is unreal.

“I want…” - and then Derek just closes his mouth, nervous for some unfathomable reason. Stiles nudges him, but he is sure Derek can feel it in Stiles - how eager he is for anything Derek would wish for. It thrills Stiles - that Derek actually has some wants that he might let Stiles realize with him.

“Stiles, I want,” - and he closes his eyes, like just imagining what he wants to ask already feels so good. Stiles’ mind races, he is sure Derek is going to ask something risky, but he thrills in it. Yes, let Derek ask Stiles of something he wouldn’t dare ask anyone else of. Stiles already wants to say yes, whatever it might be, it’s probably another werewolf thing, so he probably wants to mark Stiles. And Stiles, who never even thought of water-sports before, right now feels a rise of arousal, because, of course, that will be so good for Derek. He already sees what Derek thinks of does to him, and Stiles still hasn’t done anything.

“Please,” - Derek answers next, squeezing his ass, like he already asked for what he needs, and Derek just looks so adorable, asking so politely.

“Yes, yes, fuck, Derek, of course,” - Stiles mumbles, meeting Derek half-way, wanting somehow to show that Derek can ask Stiles for anything, and Stiles is the one to be grateful for the chance, that it is so generous of Derek to put his trust in Stiles and let Stiles know how exactly he can make it good for Derek.

“Yes?” - and then Derek shakes his head, his hair all in disarray, making him look so young, along with the expression in his eyes - sincere and pleading at once. - “I can rim you?” he asks like he can’t believe Stiles will let him.

Stiles jerks. Which, so smooth. Ten points to Stiles for having no game at all. Derek’s face immediately closes, and Stiles wants to curse himself.

“Fuck, Derek, you can’t just… say stuff like that,” - and then when Stiles feels Derek stifling and moving away, he understands how that sounds. He aggressively pulls Derek downwards, and Derek lets himself be manhandled. - “No, dude, come on. It’s just… Like, fuck, Derek, that’s so hot. It just… It makes no sense that you’d want that, you know? I mean… Will that? Like work for you?”

Because the mere idea will work for Stiles, that’s for sure. At first, when he imagined rimming, he only thought about doing it to Derek, feeling less guilty this way, but then as Stiles’ shame started shivering away because of how used Stiles got of thinking about Derek whenever he masturbated, he figured that not like he took anything from Derek by imagining that, so, yeah, basically Stiles is so absolutely gone for the idea of Derek putting his mouth down there. Derek can probably just get his face real close, and Stiles will already be creaming himself.

“Yeah. Is that alright?” - Derek asks softly, slowly reopening back for Stiles, saying all that like he’s afraid Stiles will mock him, or something.

“You’re so fucking unreal,” - Stiles can’t even handle his awe. Derek is already porn on legs, and now he asks for the thing Stiles was resolute to never even think to ask Derek to do, because he figured he will only get to have the most un-selfish sex with Derek, and Derek asks for it like it is the thing he wants the most. - “Okay, let’s get to it, because I might come from thinking about too much.”

Stiles isn’t even exaggerating. 

Derek exhales before moving away.

“Okay, so how you want me?” - Stiles busies himself, forgetting to be self-conscious, while tugging his shirt off, up until he notices that Derek freezes where he was on his knees, making done with his own t-shirt. Stiles looks downward, too, but, yup, it’s still his skinny torso, nothing too strange on it to force Derek to just about gape at it. Stiles tries to control it, but still he colours. 

He reminds himself that Derek for sure knew what he asked for when he invited Stiles for them to have sex together, he invited Stiles who, even though not a teenager anymore, is still lanky and weird, and not some model Derek could easily woo. But still, fuck, Stiles does feel self-conscious.

“You have so many moles,” - Derek says like it is news to Stiles.

“Yup,” - Stiles pops the p. - “Is it weird?” He never thought to be self-conscious because of them, but, hey, what has life been to Stiles but new exercises in self-consciousness? 

Derek looks like he doesn’t want to answer that, but then his eyes drag upward, and he must see all the insecurity pouring out of Stiles through each pore, because his gaze turns angry.

“You’re an idiot,” - he says simply, and Stiles doesn’t know what it means, but he feels less self-conscious somehow. 

So in his embarrassment, Stiles moves hastily, and gets confused while tugging his jeans and boxers down. Stiles thinks he hears Derek snicker, which is obviously just the reaction Stiles always strove to get when putting his naked body on display. But he can’t even feel the shame, because Derek laughed. Not a drill. Happened in a real world. Stiles thinks he kind of deserves an applause for managing that impossible feat, and all for the low price of his vanity. 

Derek moves to help him, and Stiles sees that he is still smiling, bunny teeth showing. It is cute. Except also really fucking distracting - Derek is topless and his jeans are opened. 

“You’re babying me,” - Stiles says because it is how he feels with Derek taking care of his clothes, dragging them down Stiles’ legs. He can physically feel how the movement takes all the humour from Derek, even his slide down Stiles’ body becomes at the end near sensual, and so the thing that Stiles intended to say with an ounce of humour, becomes way too sincere, with him catching Derek’s mood.

And then in the light of fire, in the shadows, Stiles lies naked in front of Derek. 

Derek moves slowly, working on his jeans like his fingers turned to butter. And, Stiles doesn’t know why or how, but because Derek doesn’t drag his eyes away from Stiles, it’s like Stiles gains a dual vision, and he sees everything as it is from his eyes, and then he also sees himself - naked on the rug, lighted by the fire, he is squirming, but somehow it doesn’t look bad. In fact, with his skin turning gold orange red, he looks irresistible. 

“Is this you?” - Stiles tries to ask, because this is no way all of this is coming from Stiles, but then Derek is naked, and in front of him, and who can blame Stiles for forgetting what he was thinking of.

Derek doesn’t waste time, he just bends Stiles legs and settles between them, as though he is an animal and he is hungry, demanding. Fuck, this is what Stiles wanted him to do, and it still is unbelievable. Is Derek always this good with sex? Stiles tries to somehow present to Derek, spreading his ass cheeks with his hands, rutting it towards Derek.

Derek growls, Stiles sees how he tries to restrain his teeth from growing, feels the tension in his hands and guesses that Derek tries not to let the claws out. He wants to say - you can. He won’t say - please mark fucking scars in my skin with your claws, but he wants to.

Before he can do any of that, Derek already drops low and goes town on Stiles’ hole.

“Arghh!” - Stiles screams in shock from all the sudden sensations. He is moving so much, but thankfully Derek holds him so tightly, just seals his mouth down there that Stiles doesn’t manage to escape. Fuck, he feels Derek’s tongue there, licking and penetrating him, kissing and sucking. He feels rather than hears the sounds Derek is making - the deep rumble, like it is good for him, like he is receiving pleasure here.

How is he real? Stiles can’t understand. His fucking chances of ever getting over Derek evaporate, how is he to spend his entire life while knowing that this is how Derek has sex. This is just temporary, Stiles knows.

But then Derek inserts his fingers there, licks along their length, setting a rhythm, and Stiles can’t even think, he is so hard, has been so hard for eternity. 

“Derek, Derek,” - Stiles mumbles, unable to stop moving, torn between wanting to press further into Derek’s hungry selfish mouth and away from it, so that he wouldn’t come.

“Stiles,” - Derek growls at him, finally tearing his mouth away, his spit going down his beard. Stiles doesn’t even know whose impulse it is - just knows that Derek is angry at him for moving, and he wants and wants, fuck, this is probably from Stiles.

“You can,” - Stiles whispers, so gone, but he doesn’t say please like he wants to, - “slap me.” Even the word is making Stiles flush, but fuck - he’ll probably come right away if Derek does slap him. He wants to take and take everything from Derek. Pain, too.

Derek shakes his head, but Stiles can see how much that is affecting him.

“No, I don’t want to,” - he says softly.

Stiles stifles the spoiled whine. 

“You would like that,” - Derek doesn’t say that as a question, but like it is a wonder for him. But fuck, between of them, there is no way Derek can’t know how much Stiles wants that.

So Stiles doesn’t even beg, just moves, suddenly nervous, he is being weird, Stiles thinks, all his desires out in the open. But before Stiles has the time to get a grip on himself, Derek moves lower and bites Stiles’ cheek.

“Ah! Oh…” - the sensation of pain soothes right into pleasure when Derek sucks what feels like a huge hickey on his ass.

Stiles knows for sure that he can come untouched. Will probably come untouched if Derek will keep being so focused there, sucking the skin and meat inside his amazing mouth. And when he feels Derek’s fingers slide down to his hole, Stiles moves to intercept them, moving Derek’s fingers and Derek’s face away from there.

“What?” - Derek asks ruffled, as though not understanding why Stiles would drag him away from there.

“As hot as all that is, we came here to have sex,” - Stiles manages to say, breathing deeply, calming himself, so that he wouldn’t embarrass himself like a teen with no experience. Stiles doesn’t say that so much more than himself be receiving pleasure, he really wants for Derek to have everything he wants, he wants Derek to be the one close to orgasm.

“Rimming isn’t sex?” - Derek asks smart-assedly. Ass. 

“You know what I mean,” - Stiles rolls his eyes, and then turns to hands and knees, jiggling his ass for a good measure, not knowing how to be sexy, but then Derek seems to be gone enough with his entire alpha dick situation that it doesn’t seem like a surprise when that gets Stiles a muffled curse. Stiles still takes what he gets. - “Good for you?” - comes out a bit insecure.

“You’re always good for me,” - Derek says dazedly. And Stiles knows that it is only because his alpha dick releases too much sperm that it all came to Derek’s brain and now affects it, Derek himself said that much, he still shivers because it sounds like a confession.

Stiles needs to fucking reign his expectations, no good will come from him making all this more than what it is, he will be the one who’ll be broken if he doesn’t watch out. 

“What?.. How do you want?..” - Derek asks while his two warm hands settle on Stiles’ ass, just softly touching. One smart finger pushes into the forming bruise and, yes, that stings so good. 

Stiles lowers his head on his hands, putting his ass even higher, on the display, all to watch Derek. They lock eyes. Stiles doesn’t want to confess to Derek that if he could have just this much - just this eye contact, that alone would be enough for him, he already feels so spoiled for taking and demanding more. And then, he feels, just feels, how sincere Derek asks that - he genuinely wants to fuck Stiles exactly how he wants to be fucked. Jesus, Derek is just so… How can a person be so open and earnest after going through such shit?

Stiles turns his head to look at the wall instead, a bit afraid Derek will read his mood. Stiles suddenly remembers what it all is - just a way for Derek to blow his steam off, it means nothing, and Stiles should never demand more. And amidst the sadness that the thought envelopes him in, Stiles feels determination - he will fucking take exactly what he needs from Derek.

“Just,” - Stiles swallows, knowing what he wants exactly - make me remember, he wants to say, but he can’t say that without making Derek aware even more that he is fucking someone hopelessly in love with him, and, well, Stiles doesn’t want to make Derek feel uncomfortable, he can be deadpan. - “Can you just enter? I want it to hurt,” - Stiles says cruelly, forcing himself not to think how Derek flinched from the idea of hurting anyone. Derek was the one who wanted to know what Stiles wants. And Stiles wants to hold a remainder of this for as long as he can, he wants to wear Derek’s touch on him like a brand.

Surprisingly, Derek doesn’t argue like Stiles expected him to, must sense how desperate Stiles is for that, because after just two breaths, he does just that - enters. 

“Ahhh!” - Stiles shivers on his hands. It is incredible - the pain stings, but so satisfyingly, and not too much, he was stretched good by himself and by Derek when he was rimming him, though there is something else so right about the feeling - it’s just this sense of rightfulness. Like Derek’s dick was made to be there, like Stiles was so desperate before because he only felt it’s absence. Yes, Stiles never had anal sex, but he played with toys, and anal sex, even when he learned how to make it feel good, never felt like that - like Stiles had a nook inside him just made to be filled as fully as he is filled now. 

But then Derek moves, and that feels even better, so Stiles doesn’t think, just moves to meet him, to fuck himself on Derek, needing to milk Derek’s dick. It’s not even much of a movement, Derek seems to think that Stiles is only adjusting, but he doesn’t try to speed up, and Stiles doesn’t have the mind to tell Derek that he would very much like to be just about destroyed by Derek fucking him. He doesn’t need to, because even this mild speed, even with Derek moving no more than an inch out and inside, it already is destroying Stiles.

“Oh, oh, oh,” - Stiles mewls meekly with every shove. His vision is swimming, his hearing seems to somehow be zoomed in, he feels so hot, Derek is burning behind him and Stiles’ temperature seems to meet his. And Stiles’ sense of smell - it’s like he can smell everything - the rug beneath him, the fire logs, the walls of the house, and above all else the smell of Derek mixing with his own.

“Yes, Stiles,” - Derek mumbles, and yet Stiles hears it so well, despite the slaps, despite his own laboured breath. - “So good, baby.”

“Ah!” - Stiles shivers, and then bubbles, - “Yes, God, fuck, Derek, want to be your baby, need to…” He is all open desperation but he doesn’t care. This is too honest, but Stiles can’t reign himself in.

When Stiles says that, Derek’s easy rhythm stutters, and then Derek pulls out. “No, no, Derek,” - Stiles starts to babble at the same time as Derek says, “Fuck, Stiles,” and then manhandles him onto his back.

Stiles can’t even pretend to be mad, because he is so turned on - it’s like he weighs nothing to Derek, fucking werewolves with their fucking super-strength. 

And then, mercifully, Derek doesn’t waste the time, and enters again, like he, too, can’t wait, like he feels just as Stiles does - that it is wrong for them to be apart, as though world itself will starts ripping apart if they aren’t one.

And he at last moves. He is so gone, Stiles can’t even do anything, but lay there and take it all, just looks at Derek, who is so focused on fucking Stiles right, he seems angry with it - eyebrows tightened, eyes looking at where they both connect. He is moving so fast, Derek’s sweat is dropping like an angry rain on Stiles.

He is gone, Stiles thinks giddily, proud of himself, and he’d whoop or do something to celebrate that, if only his angry red dick wasn’t moving slapping against Derek’s abs, and Stiles needs all his focus not to lose his grip on himself.

Derek moves one of his legs, bending it to the side, making the angle so much better, and slowing the speed, but not his angriness - pushing his dick inside Stiles like he has something to prove, taking it almost all the way out, and then pushing in. Derek drags his eyes upward, he is half-crazed, but Stiles knows he must look same from taking all that from Derek.

“Do you want to live here?” - Derek asks, barely making sense, but Stiles knows so exactly what Derek means.

“Fuck,” - Stiles squirms. He isn’t going to say please. - “Yes. Fuck, Derek, yes, so much.”

And this is when they both come.

At first, Stiles is so busy riding the white wave that he doesn’t even register the sensation, literally too fucked out for that. But when the wave of the orgasm subdues, even though Stiles tries to ride it to the fullest, he notices something else that is literally growing inside him. As orgasm releases him, the strange sensation only grips him further. 

Stiles barely understands what it is, only knows what he feels - inside his ass there is this sensation of something growing, pulsing. 

“Derek, Derek,” - Stiles mumbles, but he doesn’t know what to say. He accidentally squeezes, and Derek lets out a roar.

Stiles is suddenly scared, whimpering and he tries to get away, and this is when the pain hits him.

“Ow, ow, fuck, Derek, what is?” - Stiles squirms on the spot, trying to avoid pain. 

Derek, who seems only now to be coming to awareness, looks down. Stiles doesn’t know how to read his expression - Derek seems dumbfounded, but there is something else - betrayed? What?

Stiles, who at last regains the last bits of his brain he lost in the orgasm, feels his mind working quickly, and he understands immediately what it is.

“You knotted me?..” - he says, just to try it out, not sure this is the right theory, but then werewolves are wolves, right? Derek doesn’t contradict him, but looks up all panicked at Stiles.

Stiles thinks to say that this is alright, he doesn’t mind, it kind of hot, Stiles even feels betrayed that Scott hasn’t told him that werewolves could do that, but Derek beats him to it.

“Deaton.”

“Umm, Stiles,” - Stiles points to himself. Stiles feels a wave of insecurity pass him. Like, Stiles would get if Derek imagined someone else during sex, but Deaton? 

“Stiles, we need to get to Deaton immediately,” - Derek says with barely suppressed panic.

And Stiles sees by the look in Derek’s eyes that something is so very very wrong.


	2. Two

Stiles tries to think positively. Like, hey, a guy he's had sex with, panicked so much he literally went to a doctor right after getting an orgasm, and that, Stiles thinks, must be ranking lower than a lover disappearing in the morning without a note. And, well, Stiles guesses, he should’ve known, he would be just the type of pathetic to end up in some situation like this one. BUT. He did have sex with Derek, right? He managed not to cream himself prematurely, and even gave back so good, Derek came, too.

Though, that turns out to be the problem. 

“It should be impossible!” - Derek roars at Deaton, and Stiles feels a pang of pity for the guy, not the hottest thing to happen - to be screamed at by a werewolf alpha, but then Stiles also feels like he is the one who actually made Derek mad, and if so he is glad someone else serves as a buffer. Besides, Deaton doesn’t seem to be impressed by Derek’s lungs.

“There are the rules to the mating process, true, but if they all are met,” - Deaton shrugs. He is wearing some weird twelve-century pajama, but then Stiles resolves not to be judging too harshly. After all, it is he and Derek who barged into his apartment in the middle of the night when Deaton didn’t answer Derek’s phone calls.

“They weren’t met,” - Derek scoffs. Stiles is still hung up on word mating, so he isn’t even offended. But then Derek starts listing them, and Stiles finds himself curious even despite the ache inside him at the sight of Derek just being so livid at the mere idea of Stiles mating with him. - “Permission from the pack,” - he starts listing, and Deaton interrupts:

“It is permission from alpha.”

At which Derek stutters. “No, no, pack always knows, they must know.”

“That’s probably how Talia did it, but alpha is the pack. Pack doesn’t argue with alpha, obeys him, alpha’s word is the law. Especially for such ancient rituals.”

“Alright, but… It must always happen in the sacred place…” - Stiles sees in Derek’s face that they both already can guess what Deaton is going to say.

“Sacred place is chosen by alpha. Any place that awakens strong emotions in alpha is deemed sacred by the pack.”

Derek swallows. Usually Stiles would pity the guy, but now he can’t - Derek only looks broken because he accidentally mated him, and Stiles feels like every single of his ideas that he could love Derek and come unscathed from it are shattering by this look. Stiles knows that he must panic because of what has occurred, and it does seem to be a huge problem, werewolf marrying against his will wasn’t on top of Stiles’ list of wants, but Stiles already knows that they’ll find a way to deal with it. But for Derek to look so… He isn’t just inconvenienced, he is almost begging Deaton to say that this isn’t so, that he didn’t just werewolf married Stiles. And, fuck, alright, it hurts for Stiles to just see exactly what Derek thinks about the idea of them two being together.

So much for the casual sex, so much for Stiles’ ability to be not-selfish.

“The sacred question,” - Derek continues almost dumbly, just listing things. Stiles thinks about that stupid question Derek asked in the end, “Do you want to live here?” and doesn’t bother to listen to Deaton explain that the sacred question is just any question alpha deems appropriate. 

“So,” - Stiles swallows all his feelings, but it still comes out bitter. - “Are you telling me that, while not exactly easy for a normal werewolf to mate another, for alpha it is just like snap his fingers?”

“Well, the chosen mate must be from the same pack, but overall, yes, alpha’s word is the law,” - Deaton says.

Derek actually winces. He is avoiding looking at Stiles, but his pose just breathes out misery. Fuck, Stiles would so much rather Derek would just disappear in the morning after and they never spoke of it.

“So what does it entail? How do we break it? I assume werewolf marriages have such thing as divorce included into the agreement,” - Stiles isn’t going to think what he’ll do if there isn’t. He’ll find a way, they always find a way.

“The bond between the mated pair usually means that you can share feelings, and some thoughts between each other. Feel when the other is in danger or in pain,” - Deaton looks at Derek here, and Stiles has a feeling this isn’t all. This is marriage, after all, and Derek himself said that his own case is that he needs to have sex, so Stiles bets there are some sex things Deaton leaves for Derek to explain. - “The bond itself should disappear in time, but I don’t know of any way to speed that process. The bond is meant to endure the outside circumstances, so I doubt there’s anything we can do about it.”

“Hold on,” - Stiles even recalls what Deaton just said. - “It is going to just disappear in time? That doesn’t even make sense? Why marry someone if you just divorce in time?”

Here at last Derek answers Stiles. He barely spoke to Stiles after saying that they need to get to Deaton immediately.

“It is a bond that strengthens with knotting. If a pair doesn’t knot, the bond is going to eventually break.”

“So how long are we going to be mated if we don’t knot from this time onward?” - Stiles asks, looking between Derek and Deaton.

They look at each other, unsure.

“I’ve never met a pair that mated but then refused the pull,” - Derek shrugs, easily. The only mated pair he probably knew were his parents, and Stiles fights against the pity that he feels for Derek. Derek only looks miserable, he reminds himself unnecessarily, because he got himself entangled with Stiles. And, fuck, is it really that bad? Like, sure it’s bad, but not as bad as the constant death threat they have faced before, surely. But you couldn’t tell that from Derek’s face.  
  
“It is recommended for pairs to knot once a month, easier to do so under full moon. Wolves that aren’t alpha can’t do that on any night except the full moon,” - Deaton sighs, explaining. - “Besides, it strengthens with time, so if you limit to only one time… I’m guessing any time from two months to four would be a good guess. I’ve heard of a couple enduring a year apart without breaking of the bond, but that is rare. But that is the limit of it, I’ve never heard of any time longer.”

“So between two months and a year? And a year is very very very very unlikely?” - Stiles asks, just to be sure.

“Maybe, even a month would be enough to sever it, considering all,” - Deaton says. 

Looking at Derek you would never guess that this is all they’ve gotten themselves into. 

When they leave Deaton, Stiles gathers his last bits of pride, and says, “So what’s your deal? It doesn’t sound too scary?”

Surely they can endure a month or two. Or three, who cares? 

“Stiles,” - Derek looks at him, but then drops his eyes, like he can’t stand to see him.

“What? C’mon, I’m guessing there must be something else, some sex stuff?” - Stiles tries to bring them back to the fun bantering.

But Derek just sighs out, like something monumentally tragical has happened.

“I don’t know,” - he says, and Stiles can’t even guess if he is lying because Derek still can’t look him in the eyes. Which, yes, does wonders to Stiles’ self-esteem. But before Stiles can do anything about it, Derek already disappears.

Stiles stands on the porch of Deaton’s house, with the first rays of sun touching him, and thinks that he got his wish, his lover did disappear in the morning light.

♡♡♡

It is about three weeks later that Stiles sees Derek again, on a pack meeting. Because, you know, God forbid, he would have to see his accidental wolf-husband unless under the supernatural danger, just in case Stiles would consider himself worthy of... something. Anything.

In the meantime, Stiles though wasn't exactly sobbing while binging terrible tv-series and munching junk, because a) after a loooong period of thinking, he realized that actually nothing changed, he and Derek are again some kind of friends and Stiles is a lot more interested in what they have going, and b) this isn't how Stiles deals with the broken heart. How Stiles deals with broken heart is research. Nerd Pride!, ed all.

Like he has the normal researches in which he invests - he makes a fairly good leap on his mushroom map of Beacon Hills forest, plus he updates his supernatural encyclopedia and alphabetizes the monsters and thinks of system to separate them in. True, he could do a one to five kind of system, where the more dangerous the supernatural is, the higher the number would be, but Stiles figures that'd be kinda boring, so instead he does a ranking on a scale from one to three peppers, based on how hot they are. Succubi get a one because there is nothing hot about rape. After much thinking, some wanking, soul-searching, Stiles gives werewolves two peppers with alphas getting three for their knot.

Yeah, he deals with what has happened.

Unlike, and this is actually connected to his more important research, Derek. Because Stiles feels him. Stiles is fairly sure he feels the emotions of Derek, but they all are so quick and overwhelming, smell of the forest, sensation of running, deep longing and tremendous guilt, Stiles thinks that he feels Derek only in the moments when he transforms.

So okay, Stiles's third line of research is this weird marriage, because why not? It might help him. So Stiles actually figures that they can sort of have a telepathy, though not with words as much as with emotions and impressions, or at least this is what Stiles is getting through this one-way street. Besides, Stiles thinks that if he concentrates then he can stop this. He thinks it works both ways because he receives nothing from Derek unless everything goes wilder in him, and that must be a wolf.

To swerve into the heart-wretching avenue, this entire guilt inside Derek just about breaks Stiles and thaws whatever coldness he was feeling for Derek because of his treatment after their sex. Does Derek really still live with this kind of guilt? Stiles doesn't know if Derek receives anything from beyond the mental wall he puts from Stiles, but Stiles hopes that at least some of his desperate, Not your fault, passes through.

Another thing - Stiles honest-to-God thought that there might be changes to his body that he would observe. Because like Scott became an entire whole other being because of a single bite, and Stiles, no big deal, had an entire alpha's knot inside his butt. But nooo. He doesn't have better hearing (research conducted with little sacrifices on Stiles' part), sense of smell (what the hell was it then during the sex, Stiles wonders), or his atheliticism (yes, research was very painful and Stiles still has bruises from him falling down from the roof. The fact that Derek didn't show up proved that either Derek felt nothing beyond his wall of Stiles' cries, or he was a terrible terrible husband, and Stiles would've been divorcing him even without them already actively divorcing one another).

That is, there is nothing that is going on until they meet up again.

Which happens three weeks after the wolf-wedding, and they figure out that the latest thing to haunt their town are ghosts. They aren't fully transparent and are evil, so, no, it's not easy, as though it ever is.

The pack stays at Derek's, because this is where they met up, and because they need to stay the night, waiting for their summoning to work. Lydia is the one who is summoning, having flied here from across the country just to help them out.

(You would think that Stiles would be a bigger deal now when he hooked up with two most beautiful people in the pack, but he is just there, as always).

They all pick a movie (Erica picks a movie, and Boyd backs her up, so she is the only one who gets more than one vote), so they settle to watch Gilmore Girls. Stiles always wanted to get into Gilmore Girls, but then he also saw some gifs of Rory reading and liking Atlas Shrugged, so he wasn't sure if that was his own cup of tea. It turns out to be pretty good, but then Lydia is just here, he hasn't seen her in so long, and she is doing all the work alone, so Stiles gravitates towards her on the kitchen.

Then also Isaac sits on the floor in Derek's legs (exactly how Stiles wants to), and Derek placed his hand onto his neck. He even massages him, the bastard.

Lydia sits by the kitchen table, another hand-made wonder of Derek's, really ugly thing, nothing in common with Ikea-nesque furniture of normal people. She has her hair done in some new way, sleek and closer to skull, prettier than ever.

They might! have not broken up exactly decently, Stiles can concede. He kind of word-vomitted on her his gay panic. Or bi panic. Like a bi panic that just - oh, right I'm into boys, too, kind of thing. And. She was naked at the time. That was kind of a grand show of how perfect a sense of timing Stiles has. No big deal, it's not like he lies awake at three am in the night, thinking over all his life choices that allowed him to become a person who does something of a kind.

Right.

So in order to stall the time, he looks through Derek's cabinets and his fridge. What's in there is so pathetic, Stiles already knows how he'll make fun of Derek. There is moldy bread, some stale biscuits and mustard. The freezer has huge chunks of meat.

"What's between you and Derek?" - Lydia's words lash through all his ramblings in his mind.

Stiles flails, regains control of himself, puts his best show of his composure, leaning on the edge of the table, Lydia slaps his hand away from the symbols, and Stiles near falls down. He doesn't.

"Whaaat?" - he says, and he himself doesn't believe him.

Lydia just glances at him, and Stiles crouches very closely beside her on the floor, and then remembers that werewolves have super-hearing, so even while whispering, they'd be risking it.

"Why? What about it?" - Stiles asks instead. His head just peeks a bit above the table. He can see Lydia's hands where she put them onto the symbols. Her nails are blood red.

"He keeps looking at your neck, and even now he placed his fingers on Isaac's neck just where all your moles are."

Stiles is looking at her, horrified. She rolls her eyes and pops her gum. It is pink-red and has little hearts on it.

"I'm banshee, Stiles. I can pick a frequency at which to speak so that other's wouldn't hear."

Oh, Stiles didn't know that, but then it makes sense that Lydia would actually make most of her abilities.

"Why does your gum have hearts on it?"

"That's how my saliva crystallizes," - Lydia replies, rolling her eyes, with a face that says she knew he would ask. - "Those are just little caramelized candies, they haven't melted yet."

"Oh."

Stiles raises from his pose, and looks up through the kitchen's half wall at the pack. They seem fairly invested in the tv. In the dusty glass of one of the cabinets, Stiles sees enough of his reflection to place his fingers on all his moles on his neck.

Derek's hand on Isaac does seem to be tracing same pattern. Stiles can near imagine that it is Derek's hand on his neck.

And then it happens. Stiles physically feels how his hole spasms, getting wet.

Derek locks his eyes with him, his face white. All the other werewolves seem to be looking at him, suddenly tense.

The whole thing barely takes a second to happen. Derek takes a big breath, and just when Stiles is about to beg for him, Derek disappears.

♡♡♡

What happens next is that Lydia screams, the summoning has worked, and then there is enough work to last entire night and then some. Stiles comes back home around one pm, and falls asleep and sleeps til eight in the evening.

When he wakes, he calls for dad, but then finds a note in the kitchen which says that he has left for the medical appointment on taxi. Stiles texts him, at eight he should be done with it, and gets a message in return that he is sitting in the bar, and would come back later.

"Tell me if you want me to pick you up," Stiles replies.

He chugs water, and thinks what to eat when he notices Boyd and Erica sitting in his living room, and spits all out.

Stiles angrily wipes his mouth and then tells them, "This isn't creepy at all. How long have you been here?"

"Just arrived," - Erica smiles serenely, which means that she lies, but whatever. They both are usually so invested in each other, they probably didn't even do anything besides making out on his couch.

"What's up," - Stiles says, going back to taking a stock of what's there in kitchen. He has strawberry loops, red velvet pop tarts and banana, but he is actually in the mood for real food, so he gets the eggs out of the fridge.

"Nothing much," - Erica replies yet again with same tone. Stiles is not even fully awake to think about what it means.

On the second thought, he puts the pop tarts into the toaster, and when they beep gives them to Erica and Boyd. Boyd doesn't touch them and Erica eats both things.

"Just wanted to ask you about what's going on with you and Derek," - she says. Oh, now Stiles gets it. This is why she is so weird, she is trying to scare him, this is like some weird variation of a father-threatening-daughter's-boyfriend kind of thing. God forbid, Stiles will touch their father, well, their alpha, but kinda same thing.

"Nothing's going on," - Stiles puts the omelet on pan and gets the bacon out, pretending to be nonchalant.

Erica and Boyd come into the kitchen, bringing the empty plate with them.

"Well, alright," - Erica says with a shrug, and Stiles already knows that this is too easy. - "Do you want to know what we know, and how it feels for us?"

Stiles shrugs, but he knows he can't fool werewolves because he feels how his heart spikes up it's beat.

Erica smiles like a predator that sensed it's prey. It is uncannily accurate to the situation.

"Derek is our alpha, but Scott doesn't feel as we do, did you know that? That's because Scott wasn't bitten by Derek. Our connection to Derek is stronger, and it got stronger since he became an alpha with stabler pack."

"Makes sense," - Stiles mumbles. He didn't know that.

"We feel what he feels," - she pauses. Stiles is never able to have this thing nailed down - for how long to keep quiet so that the tension would build. "And he feels very... He is being very strange now."

Stiles doesn't know what to say so he busies with getting his omelet on the plate. Pours himself an orange juice.

"We thought he is mad at you, at first. That wouldn't be weird," - Erica continues. Stiles wonders what exactly did Boyd come here for.

Also, ouch. He and Derek have great relationship at this point.

"But yesterday..." - Erica says, and Stiles swallows. God, don't let him be responsible for accidentally outing Derek out, let this not be that kind of conversation.

He feels Erica and Boyd exchanging glances, Stiles must be so obvious, a spike of nervousness that would be hard to ignore.

Erica extends her hand and pats Stiles. She looks at him weirdly, though to be fair he is the one who is getting anxious over nothing at all.

"Derek likes you, Stiles," - she says softly exactly the thing that Stiles needs to hear, wants and craves to hear, but also the one that pierces him right through. He wants to ask Erica how does she know that, did Derek say anything? But he also thinks that she is saying something he needs to hear, just to calm him down.

"Yeah, right," - Stiles says bitterly.

She narrows her eyes, looking confused. "We came here to tell you to be careful. For our sake. And his."

And then they are gone.

Stiles gripes the fork so that his knuckles turn white, and forces himself to eat. Strange that this after everything shakes him so badly.

♡♡♡

After his dad comes home, they watch some baseball game on tv, and then go to their floors, getting ready for sleep. But Stiles slept too long during the day, so he ends up pulling his laptop and starts watching The Planet Earth, because why not. He realizes that he is too hyped to be watching something so calm, so he pulls up his research and adds up the recent developments to it.

That brings his mind to what has happened earlier, and so ends up pulling his pajama bottoms down. Then it feels like it is weird to be masturbating while watching Planet Earth, so he thinks to put something else. He isn't in the mood for porn, so he finds a historical fantasy in which one of protagonists might look a bit like Derek, he puts the volume to low, and ignores the plot as it builds up. 

He gets busy with the deal. At the moment he can't force himself to touch down there, afraid of what he'll find, so he just spreads his palm along his length. He isn't fully hard, and doesn't actually feel that kind of drive at the moment, but still the slow movements get him stiffling slowly. 

He sneaks a finger down there, feeling a change, and immediately touches the moisture that he has felt down there all day today.

This is when Derek comes into his room, because fuck Stiles' life.

"Jesus Fuck, Stiles!" - Derek screams, and then Stiles is grabbing his sheets too enthusiastically and falling down to the floor, and Derek is probably climbing out the window, while Stiles is flapping around on the floor with his junk all out.

Stiles gets himself covered, and then pulls his sweats over all stuff, and says, "Okay, okay, it's alright now, come back," aware that he sounds wanting. So? He is.

"Fuck, Stiles," - Derek curses, and doesn't meet his eyes.

"Okay, but Derek, what the actual fuck happened, like I mean? I what? Now have a pussy there? I feel like a little warning was wanting, can't blame me for exploring what has happened to me," - then Stiles thinks, "You can't blame for masturbating in my own room, for fuck's sake, period, actually, you absolute creep."

But then Stiles doesn't think that it counts that as creepy behaviour when Stiles lives for Derek entering, and genuinely not feeling any kind of restrictions to Stiles' personal space.

"You think I knew?" - Derek asks exasperated.

"How would you not? I feel like this should be included in any sex eds parents inflict on us, and between us, your parents would know of that unlike mine," - and then Stiles kind of wants to stuff his entire foot into his mouth, because it is probably not the best idea for him to say anything about Derek's parents.

"They never..." - Derek starts, and at last looks at Stiles. They both take a breath. Stiles climbs up from the floor and Derek primly sits on his bed, too.

"Well, I mean, yes we've had a sex talk. But like. Nothing about sex with boys, okay?"

And oh. Stiles didn't consider that angle.

He feels so way out of depth, would it be insensitive to ask a question, like, what is typical werewolf's family opinion on gays, or is it just Derek's family, and there is nothing like a singular opinion within werewolves? Or is it different for wolves in the city? Too many questions but Stiles is fairly sure they all can be very very rude, and so he just...

"Okay..."

They sit for a bit, and then Stiles decides that the best course is just biting the bullet, and jumping straight into it.

"So, okay, I'm bi, alright," - Stiles says spreading his hands. His butt leaks some more for no reason at all, and he suddenly remembers what situation they are in.

Derek says nothing, but he buries his head into his palms, and Stiles is fairly sure this is because he can smell his discharge, and not as a reaction to his words.

"So... are you?" - Stiles decides to ignore all that butt stuff. He thinks that the question is alright, right? Derek is probably bi? Because like he's seemed to enjoy and also know the mechanics of gay sex, but he also had relationship with women, that's for sure.

Derek sighs, and Stiles remembers fondly, 'Ah yes, the SCP'.

"This is gonna sound weird, but..." - Derek starts, and Stiles is all ears. "Can we just?"

And then he says nothing! Still sits mumbling into his palms. Doesn't even show his face to Stiles to let Stiles try to guess.

But then Stiles figures it kind of matters little, the answer's gonna be yes, so why not?

But before Stiles says anything, Derek just moves up on his bed until he sits with his spine against the frame, and then waits for Stiles to apparently understand what he must do. Just in case, Stiles moves and mirrors Derek's position. Derek sets the laptop in front of them, which then prompts Stiles to kind of do a weird flapping thing, and then he exists the historical movie he was watching, because that'd just be weird.

Derek then sighs when Stiles is busy finding that Planet Earth thing for them to watch, because he figures this is what Derek meant, right? Like this is what Stiles was (kind of, sans fingering his leaking butt) doing.

And then when Stiles sets them up for some mother nature, Derek goes and hugs him from the back!

"Ahhhh!" - Stiles moans out. Holy fuck. Every single kind of tension, his entire edges of vision getting blurry thing that he thought was just from his ADHD getting out of control, now settles and soothes, like his entire body suddenly remembering what it is like to feel good, when it felt so bad for so long, he stopped noticing this.

"It's the mating thing," - Derek mumbles, and Stiles tries to say that it makes sense, but even his mouth stops working. Holy shit, he thought this was just him overdoing it on adderall. Stiles just groans out of pleasure, he really should be more bothered about his dad potentially hearing him, but he literally can't.

"Stiles," - Derek says, and maybe it should've come all snappy, but instead because of how tight they are intertwined, it comes out very simple. Like Derek just saying his name out loud, placing it out there.

Stiles moves a bit, and Derek lets him, only for Stiles to get even more furrowed into Derek. This feels so good, it is so good. Stiles could purr.

He can feel at the fringes of his conscience that a strange thing of hyper-awareness, the sense of smell starts growing because he recognizes this from the last time. This time it becomes easy to understand where are Stiles' sensations and where are Derek's.

Planet Earth drones on the background, and Stiles hears that Derek lowers the volume a bit, but doesn't turn it off, so eventually they somehow settle into actually watching it. Stiles has Derek's hand on his shoulders and gingerly he even manages to place his head on Derek's chest. Stiles thinks it is better not to talk about this out loud. But this is kind of one of his dreams come true, one of his early, before he knew there was sex added to it, when he was full on questioning, but hasn't been really sure, teenage dreams he's had with Derek. So Stiles is basically a puddle now.

They watch it for a bit, but Stiles hears nothing and sees nothing, because he is just too busy listening to Derek's heart beat right under his ear, feel by the steady rise and fall, his breath, concentrating on the feeling of Derek's warm warm hand on his shoulders, it's grip on his bicep. He is a bit hard, but hopefully, if Derek smells that, it can be written down as the mated thing. At least his butt is not leaking anymore.

"So. Werewolves, in general, and it differentiates in different cultures, but my family at least... We've had this idea... That, for you probably is most familiar as what greeks used to have," - Derek says softly, slowly. Stiles listens with all in him, lowers the volume a bit more, but doesn't turn it off, figuring it is easier for Derek with the white noise. "So there is a concept of something like homosexual relationships, but it is different to marriage. Werewolves understand attraction as a real force, and we don't beat down ourselves for desiring, there is no concept of guilt for wanting, alright? But." - Derek gulps. Stiles watched a documentary once that has mentioned that for people from marginalized cultures it can be difficult to open up about their culture because people tend to focus on the othering factor, and usually do that through seeking proofs that this culture is lower, baser, not realizing that in any culture there are plenty of questionable moments. He doesn't know how to make this easier on Derek though.

"Well, still marriage is for people who will, technically, be able to have kids in it. And while it'll be alright for you to have relationships with people of same gender, it is considered to be different from marriage. Out culture values greatly... Children. And so," - Derek shrugs after powering through the last bit of information.

And Stiles doesn't know what to say to all that, because he thinks that he needs to definitely establish that he would never judge Derek's culture, but then doesn't know how to do that without sounding patronizing, so he keeps quiet. There is something in there that he needs to know though.

"So, for you... Is it?" - Stiles can't, he takes a big breath, but his throat is contracting. Maybe he isn't allowed to ask for something like that. - "Are same sex relationships different for you from straight ones?" is what he settles on at last.

Derek shifts, uncomfortable, and Stiles thinks that, yeah, it was kind of weird of him to ask that right now in the middle of compulsory cuddles amidst their slowly breaking accidental marriage.

He wants to say, you can not answer that, but then who but Derek knows that he is absolutely free to simply say nothing to Stiles' questions.

"No, they aren't for me," - Derek says levelly, definitely with his tone telling Stiles not to push anywhere further, which, like. Alright, Stiles can accept the nonverbal clues just fine, not like Derek is the one who will magically grow being able to spell everything out.

He sits, and squirms on his spot, which brings his mind to the one thing he now definitely cannot not ask about.

He tries to keep quiet, and watch medusas flying in ocean, but then squirms some more, and he can feel how that annoys Derek, so he hurries to ask,

"Are we going to talk about my pussy? Or whatever the hell happened down there?"

Derek growls, his hand squeezes Stiles' shoulder, and just before the claws pierce him, Derek rips his hand away.

"Or let's not," - Stiles hurries to add. Yes, let boys know right away you are a push over, that will make them respect you. Still Stiles hurries to think of another topic to talk about, and ends rambling, "But then maybe we can talk why you ignored me? Or why come today of all days?" all insecurities out.

Miraculously, Derek answers, "It smells like Boyd and Erica in here," he growls.

And Stiles gets something about this entire mated thing which has been flapping in his mind ever since Derek and Deaton talked over him. Deaton said that this is a very ancient ritual, and so it makes sense that it would have some weird caveman-y rules, like, it smells like other people near you and that offends Derek and stuff. Before Derek was never jealous about Stiles, but especially about Erica and Boyd, and who would be, unless it was by the force of some prehistoric magic?

Stiles doesn't even need the spelling out that this is some mate-y thing, because what? So some wolves sat on his coach. Fuck, Stiles will invite wolves from over the country to sit on his coach if that will guarantee that Derek will be visiting him right after that.

"Alright," - Stiles drawls out. - "Guess I'll invest in Febreeze."

Then they yet again turn to watching netflix. This is terrible, Stiles thinks, there really is no spark left in this marriage, Stiles imagines himself with a wine glass, complaining to Eva Longoria, fellow housewife. He gets a bit distracted with outlining their marriage on that show - like Derek would be someone rich, they'd have a nice house, but everything inside will be shallow and all directed to putting up the front of proper respected family.

Derek says, "It smells so good."

Which if you remember that past conversation, which Stiles takes a minute to do, goes in exact opposition to what has been said.

"What? Febreeze?" - did their marriage really come down to that? Is there really nothing to it but talking about brands?

Derek scrunches his nose, looking uncomfortable, and then says, "Your butt."

And very suddenly Derek's inability to hold a linear conversation going makes so much more sense, because instead of thinking whichever it is that is appropriate to think of when someone compliments the smell of your newly-pussified hole, Stiles only thinks that it is really a shame that they are having a quarantine on sex, because what he wants most is to spend days, weeks, months just being naked with Derek and having sex, going at it all the hours that aren't spent sleeping or eating, and even then maybe something can be done - Derek can just not pull out ever. They'd be naked, sweaty, and no one would be allowed to be near them, far from all the world. Yes, that seems like the ultimate dream. Maybe someday they will find a darach who'll be selling some fantasy-world drugs and Stiles will sell a kidney to get them, just to have a taste of what that dream might be like.

Stiles is aware that he isn't speaking for a long time, but then that was some bomb.

He thinks out loud, just to say something, afraid he'd make Derek self-conscious when he is opening to Stiles as to how this mated thing works for him, and says, "It makes so much sense, actually. I mean it is more or less for you, right?" Stiles swallows the words Derek's juice, because he is grown ass adult, and it's not like he got better filter, as much as adults are held to another standard, and Stiles accepts the new invisible rule.

Derek moans, and tells him to shut the hell up. He brings his hands to cover his face. Stiles' shoulder turns cold, missing Derek's heat.

Stiles swallows because instead of being less horny, he is slapped into the mood. His dick is hard as a pole, and his hole clenches, all in one moment after Derek snapping on him.

This is surely another mated thing, Stiles tells himself ignoring all memories from when he was getting aroused by Derek getting mad at him through the years.

Blood-starved brain of Stiles comes with a grand idea.

"I can... um. Give it to you, like to give the taste?" - is what Stiles for some completely unknown reason decides to suggest. Well, other than the fact that he wants it, wants to give it to Derek. He would probably pay for Derek to take a tiny little bit of a lick from Stiles' fingers.

Derek doesn't say anything, doesn't even shift his pose, and so Stiles decides that this is as close to yes as he is going to get. There is also a thrum of desire that doesn't seem to be coming off entirely from him, which Stiles supposes must then belong to Derek.

This mating stuff must really mess with Derek's head, Stiles thinks. He already put out the theory that the reason why he doesn't feel any weirded must be heavily based on the fact that Stiles is so gone on Derek, there is no magical spell strong enough to add anything to the mix.

But just in case, he movies his hand slowly, giving plenty of time for Derek to say that this is far too crass. Stiles' hand gently goes over his abdomen, and then dibs inside his underwear. He takes his starving for attention dick for a second, for something like reassurance for himself, and then he sneaks lower.

It's not the most comfortable position, his hand stretches the fabric of his pants as far as they would go, entrapping his hand in it. But still when Stiles touches himself down there, he can't help it - he moans. Oh, fuck, this is so good. Not just the feeling on his fingertips, the warm wetness, but particularly inside there, as though each skin cell became something else - a tight bundle of pleasure.

Derek stills his hand in hard grip, and he looks crazed. "Stop," - he forms the words without sound.

And the fucking air around him, what Stiles instead is hit with, enveloped inside of - is Derek's strong, near impossible to stall off desire that comes from him, that Stiles feels inside himself, too.

Fuck, Derek might be strong enough to hold off his own desires, but Stiles has no strength against it. He shoves his fingers deeper inside, and they both moan.

'Do you feel it?' Stiles wants to ask, 'How good this is for me?' but he literally can't find his voice, all lost inside the gasp.

Derek hastily releases his hand, and immediately frees his own flushed dick to take it into his hand, getting a hold of it at the root, really pressing it. Stiles moans at the sight, it is huge and flushed red, skin tight, and even though he knows, can feel it - that Derek did that to actually control himself, to not knot out right now, he also feels such rush of excitement running through him at the idea that they might just do it right now, just come together, jacking off, near each other. It is one of the fantasies that he's had for a long while, even back when he was sixteen and didn't know that there was something weird about such fantasies, he only thought that Derek could really show him some chops, like that is something cool people do near each other. Like that would mean that Derek thought of him as his close and trusted friend.

The fact that he's never fantasized of anything of a kind about Scott should've been a giveaway, but then Stiles thinks that he was also unprepared for the truth.

Stiles gets so distracted with watching Derek that he doesn't move his hand, and then it becomes weird, because he thinks too much about that. He can't have this now - this feeling of pleasure inside his butt, when it really should feel so different, because he can just tell that he'll freak. He slowly brings the fingers out, careful not to lose the slick on his pants.

"Fuck, Derek, I'll pay you," - he says, slowly lifting them to Derek's face. They are both watching Stiles' fingers as they come closer to Derek. He ends up chickening out because of how fast his heart beats, and puts the fingers to Derek's cheek.

And Derek still doesn't move, just looks at Stiles, expression unreadable, and even his emotions become so conflicted that Stiles simply can't read them right.

Stiles sees how Derek closes his eyes, and his emotions slightly get under control, which is when Derek says, "Stiles do you want to go back to Stanford?"

Which is to say the least a very strange thing to say to a boy who is holding his own juice on his fingers. But Stiles can feel some gravity in that question, and so he starts actually feeling nervous because of it.

"Umm, no?" - understatement of the year, but it is honest. Stiles' mind races two hundred miles per hour.

Derek slowly turns his head, and nips on his fingertips. Stiles' mind blanks, become complete white noise.

"I could," - Derek gets more of Stiles' fingers into his mouth, but then leaves only the tips inside to speak clearly. Stiles has no idea how after having literal sex with Derek, this could be so sexual, "I could pay for a nurse for your father. There is a pack fund," all said like he is trying to sell something to Stiles.

If only Stiles has had a single ounce of a mind to be able to reply, to understand what Derek is saying or why, but that would require for him to get his fingers away from Derek's warm mouth, and he can't do that.

Instead he says, because his mind loses all filter, "I just really want to suck you, Derek."

Which prompts Derek to press very hard on his dick, and he drops Stiles' fingers.

"That'll be..." - Derek answers to the desperate plea that pours off from Stiles when he understands what he's said, when he sees how Derek closes off, and moves away. "We can't do that," Derek presses, tucking his dick into his pants hastily.

"Right, fuck, right," - Stiles panics in reply because on the one hand, he just messed something up, on the other - now Derek added a picture of Stiles' mouth wrapping Derek's knot inside it, and that causes a pretty severe malfunction inside his mind.

"Now hold on," - Stiles thinks to say when Derek moves away from the bed, and towards the window, and when Derek turns to him, Stiles, who hasn't expected that to happen, finds out that he actually doesn't have anything to say. He only doesn't want for Derek to be gone. But then that might be dangerous, and he understands.

They lock eyes, and Stiles just mentally wishes he's had something to say.

Derek says, "Think about Stanford," and disappears.

♡♡♡

_Think about Stanford_. This is the only thing that Stiles thinks for the next three weeks.

Immediately after he wants to go to Derek's house and explain him everything. Force him to sit down, and he doesn't know what exactly Derek needs to know that for, but he clearly thought about Stiles dropping out before, and Stiles would really really like Derek knowing exactly, especially if he can give that information to him. But then he thinks that is too presumptive of him, to think that Derek wants to know his jumbled reasons, his weird thoughts of academia and such.

Then, there is also this mating process, which Stiles can physically feel dying over the course of those three weeks. It might be better not to risk it, and be away from Derek, especially considering that the distance seems to be working wonders. Stiles' slick seems to be coming out in direct proportion to Derek's closeness, and so when Stiles takes a week off pack meetings (he also has a nursing entrance exam that week), everything dries off.

Stiles thinks that he is reasonable to think that when the bond will die off, he will somehow feel it, maybe he will be miserable for the entire day, crying, and needing to see Derek. Maybe Derek will feel the same. Maybe there will be the need to save the bond in the last moment, and Stiles prepares himself to be strong for when it will snap.

Apparently, as Deaton tells him, and Scott confirms (by sniffing him), the bond is already dead after those three weeks.

Which leads to Stiles really grilling Scott about the bond for the entire night, because it turns out he has bonded with Kira, but no big deal, right?

Because it fucking apparently isn't a big deal, because it isn't a marriage thing at all.

And then Stiles, after getting zero hours of sleep last night, and so not operating under his best judgement, drives to Derek in the morning.

Think about Stanford.

Derek opens the door, and Stiles is actually hit by the emptiness he feels from him. He started taking it for granted the last couple of times that he saw Derek, how easy it was for Stiles to feel Derek's emotions, and now by receiving this complete nothingness, there is a feeling of emptiness where only recently there was something.

"Stiles," - Derek greets him, and moves aside.

Stiles swallows because he literally doesn't know exactly what he thought he came here to talk about.

When he was there, grilling Scott, his sleep-deprived mind came with such an absurd idea, but Stiles could not shake it off. Up until now.

Scott told him that there is nothing more to the bond than the ability to knot, and the exchange of feelings inside that bond. Nothing in it would make a person feel something he wouldn't ordinary feel. Scott told him, he could feel Kira even being angry or disappointed with him, or when she didn't like something during sex. She also could hide all her feeling fairly easily, so this was just a new way of connection, but not a love magic that would change person's feelings.

And if everything Stiles felt from Derek was true... But then, here, in Derek's house, while Derek looks through his shelves and fridge, topless, looking like a wet dream, Stiles thinks this must have been absurd.

Because for some reason... He thought that maybe Derek did like him. Like romantically. Because this is what Stiles was feeling from Derek through their bond. Like Derek was just smitten with Stiles. And he never even let himself linger on that, because he thought that the bond was making Derek feel funny.

And besides, it seems so stupid, anyway. Why wouldn't Derek act on it, if that was so? Stiles was so so so obvious.

And then that fucking Stanford comment inserted himself into Stiles' mind and started driving him maaad.

He could feel Derek's emotions at that point, and what Derek projected felt like... Like he was heart-broken. Maybe it was because of lost opportunity. But maybe it was just exactly what Stiles felt it to be then, but could barely believe it - like Derek was so hurt that Stiles was being so selfless about himself.

What if? His mind supplied, and the puzzle really seemed to add up, but what if Stiles' might as well got a tinfoil hat for himself? What if Derek thought that Stiles is so damn selfless he would take care of Derek, have sex with him, even without considering his own feelings?

"Alright, so, I'm going mad, and I'm just gonna jump into it, okay?" - he doesn't wait for Derek to acknowledge, because he will start double thinking and then he will only confuse himself more. "So Stanford? Ummm. Hated it there. No, maybe that's not like entire truth. There were good things. But. Like, I mean, okay I got there, right? And I thought, bye bye school, and bye small town, and hello big world, and I will be appreciated there, at last? Like that's what everyone says, right? Nerds become cool in college, right? Well, I don't know if it is like a smell of a loser that I spread some ridiculous vibes out, or something, but... Well, no I wasn't bullied, but I didn't exactly become a social star? Which was alright. I mean, sure I thought I'd be at last big with girls or boys, you know that I've had the entire bi thing under wraps, and actually, there were some really questionable experiments..." - Derek starts looking a bit green at the edges through Stiles' entire rant. Maybe Stiles should've considered ... something before springing on dude's morning like that. But then Derek's fault. He allowed Stiles call the bond between them a wolf-marriage and not once corrected him, and so he now, by the default, kind of an ex-husband of Stiles, and ex-husbands do have to carry the burden of unloading feelings.

"So, whatever, not that I cared all that much about that stuff, because Stanford, right? More time for me to study, I figured. And that's where... Well, I started having problems."

Stiles swallows here and thinks for a moment, this will be hard for him to explain, even in his own mind, it sounded not at all convincing, he's had a hard time believing his own feelings, other people though? That's why Stiles preferred not to talk or think too much about his reasons for dropping out.

"Well academia, right? I mean I know, believe me I know that I will sound like I am just too fucking stupid for Stanford, which I very much might be. But! I was so goddamn disappointed, Derek. I mean... Classes asked for such over-specific details, and then I watched over the grad students, and did you know that I went into bio-chem because I was hoping to, I don't know? Find a cure for cancer or something. And the grad students, they were all just busy with writing some articles on behaviour of molecules in the leaves in forests of South America, or something like that. They just write stuff that can be published, because that means more financing, and stuff that can be published can only be some discovery, but you see, here's the trap - the only guaranteed discovery you can make is by dedicating yourself to some small obscure problem no one yet had the time to observe, and, well, there's reason for it - that's because all those obscurities have no hope of containing any kind of big answers. I mean I remember reading an article just then which said that overall in any hospital the most important work is being done by the nurses, because the absolute majority of the reason why we live longer now, is not exactly the obscure discoveries made by scientists, but the keep up of hygiene and the right sort of nutrition. Now, I know that's kind of a very pathetic excuse, but I really thought that if I stayed there I'd be so useless, but like a fancy-type of useless. And then Dad got shot at his work! And like, sheriff's kid, I've always feared that would happen, and it happened, but it wasn't bad-bad! And my dad needed a real help. And there I was, in goddamn school, hoping to make a difference, when my dad needed somebody to care for him. Like decision to drop Stanford? Easiest decision of my life. I mean, sure, I'm like embarrassed that people are now going to think I am too stupid for it, but whatever, right, we should live our life according to our own ideas, and all..."

And now what?

"And now I don't know why I told you all that," is how Stiles finishes lamely.

Derek shakes his head, bringing to Stiles' mind the moment when Derek shook his head same way when Stiles ranted to him about "Breaking Bad".

Except last time, he got sex after that shake, and this time he will be thrown off Derek's house forever.

"Okay," Derek says. "Makes sense."

They stand a bit in quiet. Stiles feels like his batteries were shut down after the explosion.

Derek looks at him, probably questioning why he is still standing here in his kitchen, and says, "I'm sorry that others think you're too stupid for Stanford."

Stiles shrugs.

Derek looks at him, very sincerely in the eyes and says, "Anyone who knows you, Stiles, knows that you are brilliant."

And this shatters Stiles. Like he actually feels like his heart has had a stick driven through it. He exhales with the force.

"Derek, I love you."

Derek drops his milk, turns white.

Stiles thinks that must be a good enough answer, of course Derek would react that way, horrified.

Stiles for some reason marches on.

"You know at first when we wolf-married, I thought that was just bond that was making you feel that way about me. Personally I didn't feel any change regarding my feelings, but that made sense, too, okay. Because I was already all the way there, so... And then Scott told me the bond changes nothing, so what I was receiving from you must have been true. But if all that was true, why didn't you act on it, you could feel how I felt, and I just... I mean I know it doesn't make sense for you to l-"

Derek shuts him up with a kiss. AH! Stiles hurries to open up and moans inside it.

Ah, that is so good! Derek kisses him like he stakes a claim, body pressing hard against Stiles'.

"I love you so much," Derek growls.

"God, do you?" Stiles is very busy with putting his hands beneath Derek's shirt, in hurry to touch Derek's warm skin.

"Why were you so mad then? When we mated? You were so angry?" Stiles asks in between kisses, remembering his pain.

"Stiles," here Derek rips apart from his face and looks him in the eyes. "I thought I forced you. I am an alpha. I thought that because I wanted you so badly, you ended up bonded to me without your choice. After the whole situation with your dad, I thought the last thing you needed was also to get tied to me."

"God," Stiles laughs. "You are so stupid."

"You are so kind..." Derek tells him between kissing his whole face hard. "I didn't know much about the bond, too. I thought you were just kind to me."

Stiles laughs, because really? He is a genius! He was right! He saw right through Derek!

"Really? Kind enough to let you stick your knot inside me?"

Derek growls, wolfs out. Stiles suddenly knows that if he had the capability to do it, he would leak so badly now.

"Okay," Stiles says, suddenly in hurry to rid them from clothing. "We really need to re-create that bond."

Derek doesn't argue.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
